TPoB (First Draft)

Chapter 5

When Attwell went to join everyone for the large group meal he was met with plenty of questions from congregation. They all wanted to know just what had given him the wound on his cheek, and with each time he gave his and Chelsea's fabricated answer he felt worse and worse. He wished he didn't have to lie on his father's behalf, but what choice did he really have? If he were to tell the truth he'd end up with wounds far worse than what he had now, but if he were to not say anything and people knew what happened in the choir room they may have been able to infer.

Other than the slight sting of guilt when telling it, Attwell was content with the lie. He just hoped it wouldn't end up getting Chelsea in trouble. His hopes were, of course, crushed when he noticed Caldwell and Mrs. Orman talking again. The problem there was that Mr. Abbot, who Attwell had just talked to, had approached them.

He avoided eye contact as the group spoke, feeling their stares. The longer it went on the more he felt like their eyes were burning his back, boring scorched craters where they landed. Just then Attwell felt a tap on his shoulder. Chelsea must've seen Attwell practically fold into himself from across the room, because suddenly there she was at his side.

"Looks like our parents are finally catching wind of what happened." She stated nonchalauntly as she took the seat next to him at the table. "Think it'll work on them too?"

Attwell unfurled from the ball he'd become to at least try to act more natural.

"We can only hope. I'm sure Cald-" He began.

"Look alive man, here comes my mom." She cut him off gesturing to Mrs. Orman who was now approaching them.

"I hear you two got in sort of a tussle." Cathy began as she approached.

She had a look of guilt and disappointment on her face when she sat down across from the two.

"Don't-" Chelsea began before Attwell cut in.

"No need to worry Mrs. Orman. We've made amends already."

"So then what really happened?" Questioned Cathy, looking between the two nervously.

"We got in an argument about a song is all." Attwell stated as he had dozens of times now.

"I got a little too heated and ended up hurting him." Chelsea finished the story out.

"She, of course, helped me right after. Cleaned and dressed the wounds and sat with me apologizing. A bit more than necessary if I may add." Attwell went on, incontempt with leaving the story at just Chelsea animalistically punching him in the face over a musical disagreement.

"Right, yea." Chelsea gave him a bit of a glare. "We made up, it's all good now."

With that Mrs. Orman took the bait. She gave a smile before getting up and heading back to a table to conversate with other adults.

"You'd better watch the way you're talking if you wanna do that whole secret friends thing." Chelsea jabbed, giving him a light nudge as she too got up and went to join her friends.

Attwell gave her a smile as she got up but then turned back to himself. He knew she was right, but he didn't want either of them painting a bad picture of her. They were friends now after all, secret or not, he was sure friends don't paint each other as impish brutes. Then again the only reason the lie really worked was because she had a reputation as a trouble maker.

Thoughts like this continued to play in his mind as the day went on. The rest of the day went on as any other sunday would, being in church all day conducting sermons, youth activities, and meals for people in the area. Chelsea and her family stayed all day while Mrs. Orman volunteered as usual and the two secret friends had barely even crossed paths all day as always. Nothing was out of the ordinary until just before time to clean up and lock up.

Attwell headed down to the choir room as always. He was going through picking up trash and stacking chairs as usual when one of the doors creaked open. He stopped and looked to find Chelsea there, standing at the piano.

"So, Mr. Secret friend, you showed off some impressive piano skills earlier. You learn all that in secret too?" She asked, an odd quality to her voice that Attwell didn't recognize.

"Why yes actually." He replied nonetheless, continuing on with his work. "Caldwell doesn't approve of anything that isn't for the church or holidays."

"Cool, cool." Chelsea muttered, sitting on the piano bench. "Think you could teach me?" She grinned, lifting the key cover and striking the keys with a slam of her hand.

This startled Attwell, who ended up dropping the chairs and rushing over to her.

"Careful!" He uttered as he carefully brushed her hands from the keys and shut the cover. "I don't want Caldwell to come and-"

"Oh right! Sorry." Chelsea apologized, yet still couldn't help laughing a bit to herself.

"Are you doing alright Chelsea? You seem a bit out of it at the moment." Attwell questioned, taking a seat next to her on the piano bench.

Chelsea seemed slightly taken aback by this, giving Attwell a sort of look he couldn't quite deconstruct.

"I guess what goes around comes around." She laughed.

"What do you mean by that?"Attwell pried.

"Stole a little of the wine from my mom's purse. Not much, but it takes the edge off."

"What? Why would you go and do something like that?"

"Listening to your dad's fire and brimstone preaching all day? I'm surprised you don't."

The two were silent for a moment. A strange tension hung in the air, leaving both in an awkward position. After a good while of this finally something came to Attwell's mind.

"Did you want to learn how to play?" He asked.

"Play what?" Chelsea almost immediately responded.

"The piano."

"Oh! Right." She laughed taking a look at the mess of sheet music sitting on the stand. "Hell yea. Teach me your ways, O' master of fancy finger moves."

"Then it's a deal." Attwell chuckled, giving her a playful nudge with his arm.

"A deal? What am I doing for you then?"

"You keep our secret, I teach you the piano."

"Sounds good to me." She grinned, lifting the key cover.

"Not now though. Not enough time."

"Oh yea." She took a look at the clock on the wall. "I bet mom will be wanting to leave soon."

She got up from the bench after saying this, then making her way to the closest door. Instead of leaving just then she turned back and waved to Attwell.

"Let me know when we can hang out. Send a pigeon or whatever you people do." She joked, waiting for Attwell to wave back before finally leaving.

After she had left Attwell carried on cleaning up and putting things away like usual. The only difference was that tonight he carried on with a smile spread across his face.